It must have been deeply confusing for thousands of people that during his most recent tour of the United States, a mysterious group of protesters has been hounding the Dalai Lama at every stop, from Alabama to Princeton to Boston to New York.

I won't say I experienced some sort of transcendent moment then, that time seemed to stop and beckon me into some sort of new, spiritually enhanced state. But I will say this: Something told me the murder scene could wait for a while.

In the case of the current wave of ISC "protests" against the Dalai Lama, we have to ask ourselves--What does the small group of highly motivated, well-organized, seemingly media-savvy "protesters" really want?

Pilgrimages have always been a big part of every culture's spiritual ethos. As a Hindu, perhaps one of the most important pilgrimages to make would be the one to Mount Kailash and Lake Mansarovar in the Himalayas.

Like a broken record, Beijing's blatant and brutal practices to maintain "control" of its people and eliminate "threats" to its values play over and over again. It occurred to me that Beijing reminded me a great deal of a documentary I recently watched, Bully.

In February and March we witnessed groups of Western Buddhists in San Francisco and D.C. accusing the Dalai Lama of "religious persecution" and "abuse of basic human rights." What, one may ask, is going on? Italian journalist Raimondo Bultrini attempts to unravel this mystery in his new book.

There are some Chinese who are amplifying the Dalai Lama's voice in China. Beyond the radar of China's censors and whispered in the din of China's Internet chatter are expressions of Chinese support and sympathy.

These incidents are obviously not isolated, disconnected or random examples of police misconduct. They form a pattern of capitulation to demands that Chinese authorities be as free from confrontation about their human rights abuses when they travel abroad as they are at home.

This blogger hopes that next time the foreign press and anyone interested in the Tibetan will look to the more democratic and less problematic figure of Mr. Sangay the next time a first lady reaches for yak butter tea.